Rent a Tux
by slash mania
Summary: Sirius and Remus come to return the tuxes worn to James's wedding.Frank, the everloyal Rent a tux employee, is not happy with the treatment of the merchandise. Slash


AN: Ah, my studies are complete. Well...not really. I am still fiddling with other things but this story just came up. It's what I get for thinking that I need to do something about my narration, move away from my character's points of view, or the mysterious voice of god narration I prefer. No, this will be story told through the eyes of an another person. My other story, _I Prefer Brunettes,_ was deleted by the site under the grounds that it violated the guidelines for a fanfic. Mainly that it was a 'script'. ... I won't fight them on it. The story wasn't great, I would have edited and destroyed it altogether ...but it still irks me a bit. My first site-deleted story...a Kodak moment.

Summary: Remus and Sirius come to a tux shop to return the suits they wore to James's wedding. The man behind the desk is not pleased with their treatment of the merchandise. RLSB slash

Disclaimer: If I owned them would I be publishing these stories on a fan fiction site? NO! I would sell them to Rowling's publishing company and make big bucks off it. Yes, then you'll be waiting in anticipation for _Moony and Padfoot: The Untold Stories of Harry Potter._ Well, not really. This _is_ a disclaimer after all.Frank, the Rent-a-Tux employee is a character of my invention and is in no way a real person. Maybe modeled after a certain type of person that we encounter at some time in our lives- annoying people who are terribly nit-picky.

Rent-a-Tux

They came in holding the suits on the wire hangers, the name Rent-a-Tux labeled on the protective plastic swaths given to them upon rental. The men, looking bleary eyed and smelling of sweat trudged up to the desk, ears undoubtedly ringing from the small bell affixed to the door. It chimed and they flinched as another customer came in. The man behind the desk frowned and shook his head at the pair, thinking to himself, _really, they shouldn't be so far-gone, and it was only a wedding, not _another _bachelor party._

Frank, as his name-tag proclaimed, didn't like to receive the suits in bad condition, especially after 'social gatherings'. 'Social gatherings' meant people, people meant drinking, drinking meant getting fall-down drunk, and getting fall-down drunk made some customers get a little crazy. Like they decide to roll about in the wet grass with a date. Frank had to disguise his shudder from the two customers. If there was anything Frank hated more than the blood stains from one memorable wedding where the groomsmen had gotten into a brawl with the hired band (he had been forced to chuck the suits and then refuse to sell to the family again, a shame really, because they had another wedding to plan and obviously, a need of tuxes) was a suit coming back home smelling like alcohol. And sure enough, the smell only got stronger as he lifted up the protective screens of plastic from the tuxes.

Horrible. The first suit, belonged, according to the stub presented with it, to Mr. Black, the taller man with unruly black hair. Alcohol, the stench was usually a subtle one, but to Frank who was so attuned to its particular scent, felt it like a hammer to the head. _How much did he drink?_ Frank had to wonder as he looked back to his customer. He was tall, pale, and not really skinny. Maybe a void had taken residence in his stomach that night, seeming to never empty, but he had predictably felt its effects in the morning by the looks of him. Hiding his grimace, he continued to check. Because of other clients, (like the musician-beating groomsmen) it was now mandatory to check all suits before returns. The suit, black, long in the leg, wide in the shoulders, was in perfect condition when rented by Mr. Black. It was not at all perfect after he wore it. Aside from the alcohol spilled in various places, there was more to gasp at. Like the grass stains. God how Frank hated bloody-difficult-to-remove-grass-stains!

Frank glared at Mr. Black who frowned as the loyal Rent-a-Tux employee pointed to the stains. The young man brushed his hair out of his face and took a look at his companion. That brought Frank's attention to the other; a light haired man, mature, a little shorter and slighter than his friend. Frank remembered trying to find a suit for the gentleman, and how everything the young man tried on was just a bit too big. He was given the smallest available tux, also black. He was thin but not harmfully so, Frank had noted. Rent-a-Tux didn't have a large selection of sizes, as the last suit of his size having been taken the week before, the youngman had to make do with what Rent-a-Tux could provide on such short notice.

As he unwrapped the suit he found that Mr. Lupin's tux, as the ticket stub read, was much worse off. The cloth was covered in grass stains, dirt, and the now almost undetectable stench of booze permeating the air. The trousers also appeared to have been...mangled. Frank took a closer look at his two returnee's. They were both sleep-tousled and obviously keyed-up from his near intense scrutiny. They looked at one another often and Mr. Black would touch what looked like a hickey on his neck as he looked at Mr. Lupin. Mr. Lupin would look away. Frank looked between the pair as tension sang across the distance between their bodies. He returned his attention to the trousers. The poor things, the seams near one of the legs looked like it had been torn apart, hanging by bare threads. How had Mr. Lupin worn them for the wedding if they were so damaged? Or more importantly, how _did_ he damage them. Looking from the pants to the man he did wonder, _How?_

Mr. Lupin, he blushed when Frank pointed to the damages, especially the lost trouser button and the broken zipper. When asked for an explanation, Mr. Lupin began to speak, coughed, and looked to Mr. Black for a moment before turning back to Frank, still baring the embarrassment garnered from a brief look at Mr. Black's face.

Obviously what happened had been between the two men. Frank frowned and asked what he had hoped to never ask his customer's since the wedding fights. They both started a little, Mr. Lupin not saying anything and Mr. Black cracking a small smile. The dark haired man shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like, 'not last night we weren't.' Mr. Lupin had heard and glared a really weak glare that said that they had been fighting, mainly about the events of the night before. Maybe, Frank speculated, Mr. Black had stolen Mr. Lupin's date? The best man certianly looked like he could. But no, they hadn't been fighting, or so that was Mr. Black's story. But Frank couldn't tell as Mr. Black had a natural air of mischief about him. Did they fight? Did they not fight? Was it really a fight at all? Frank had to wonder as Mr. Black touched the hickey adorning his neck and Mr. Lupin looked away in confusion. Obviously something had happened between them but the code Frank adhered himself to was very clear in the respect of the customer's privacy, even if the customer's in question were going to be refused future service.

Only one thing could be done. Frank sighed and drew up the papers that would make it so neither Mr. Black nor Mr. Lupin could ever rent from Rent-a-Tux ever again. Mr. Black offered to pay for both and Mr. Lupin weakly refused, even if it was 'all his fault' as Mr. Lupin pointed out. Mr. Black laughed and paid for both anyway, mentioning getting some breakfast from across the way. Mr. Lupin agreed as Mr. Black took him by the shoulder and guided him away from the desk, the bell at the door announcing their leaving. Frank sighed in relief and went to dispose of the suits. He did get such strange customers in this part of London.

AN: Hopefully this one won't get deleted. I think it adheres to the guidelines. Read and review, tell me what you think. Not much dialoge, eh? Just hints of what Frank thought he heard from the canine duo. I'm hoping to get better at my story telling with exercises like these.


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